


A Hot Valentine's

by lover_of_blue_roses



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: (because of denial), Frottage, Hamburg Era, Hand Job, M/M, Paul's First Time, drunk, light jealousy and possessiveness, mild gay crisis, more of a friends with benefits arrangement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: George is sick of Paul getting jealous over John spending so much time with Stu and decides to show the bassist a real good time.
Relationships: George Harrison/Paul McCartney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	A Hot Valentine's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PaperbackWanderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperbackWanderer/gifts).



> the discord im in for this: https://discord.gg/9Pv6AXvujW

While George had opinions about Paul's constant fawning, bordering on obsession with John, it was nice to see it turn bitter against him. Now Paul seemingly spent every moment railing against Stu. Stu the cool, good-looking, confident art student that incidentally acted like he was too cool for their band simply because he had no interest in being a musician. And worse of all, John's dear friend. George would even say his *best* friend. 

It made Paul absolutely green with envy because all he wanted was John, and it was a crime that John didn't want only Paul. Now he knew how George felt, or he would if he could get his cute little head out of his own arse long enough to notice that there was else going on in the world. Like George. Who had been his friend when they were teenagers. And who would like to keep being his friend. His *proper* friend, not just someone he would throw aside as soon as Lennon gave him the tiniest scrap of attention.

That however seemed very unlikely. As usual, John had taken four prellies to their one which had given him the needed energy last night but had left him wasted today. It wasn't the pills themselves that were the problem, more the dryness of mouth that they treated with copious amounts of beer. 

With nothing to do as they ate their 'breakfast' even though it was 2 in the afternoon, George fantasied about Nurse Paul fussing over John in a nurse's outfit with stockings and a fetching little hat. Prellies weren't just energizing and euphoric, they also left you charged in a way that was sexual. And as George hadn't gotten any last night, he was still wound tight and tense. Imagining Paul's hands on his body. All that attention and care, directed to him. 

Hmm, it was getting him hot and randy as he squirmed in the diner's booth. Maybe he'd get another bird tonight. It was hard because of the hours they played, few women were still around at 4 am when the threat and danger was so real, especially where they were. But if he found someone before the show, or if he was willing to have another working girl. Someone cute, with doe eyes and a button nose. 

George wondered if there were working 'boys' in the same way. It had to be illegal though, still, he didn't really think that would stop him. Not that Paul looked that much like a boy. A long-haired wig and a close shave, and he could be one of their screaming fans. George could only imagine how he'd make Paul scream.

"Is everything alright mate?" 

Paul interrupted his daydream, must have felt George staring so intently. "I- oh yeah."

"Just because you're getting a little red in the face."

"Just thinking about getting a bird tonight, letting off some steam."

Paul made this expression with his motherfucking attractive face. Like he was thinking about one too. Getting randy just across from him. George couldn't get a man, but maybe he could convince Paul into a threesome, some girl in between them. It wouldn't be the same, but to see Paul passionate, hot, hard and fucking. It would- It wouldn't hurt. "That sounds really good. Been awhile meself. If she's got a friend, you'll send her my way, won't you?"

George nodded but internally he was just thinking about his plan. Between the blinding stage lights and their level of inebriation, Paul could probably easily be misled into thinking there was no other girl, that George was only able to make it work with one. Drunk yeah, that would probably help convince Paul of the idea and it wouldn't be hard to suggest he drinks up. 

When Paul got drunk, he could get soft and drowsy, just his big eyes half-lidden as he stumbled and leaned against George. Vulnerable and dependent. And like all drunk men, somewhat foolish. Letting George or any man be naked and sexual in front of him might seem impossible to accept in the cold, harsh light of day, but once tipsy or tired, it might just seem acceptable. George wouldn't force him into anything of course, but just put Paul in a favourable condition not to want to fight it off. 

With that decided, George was free to think of something other than Paul, such as how many spoons he could balance on John's head before the lad shoved them off.

After discovering that five was the number of spoons, they did little else the rest of the day, just waiting for their evening show to start. And once they arrived at the club George plied Paul with as many beers as he wanted, offering to pay, a proposal which Paul had no interest in refusing. And Paul enjoyed drinking as they all did. Scousers and Liverpudlians didn't just come from a dock city but took to drinking like fishes themselves. It was just how they all were and George had never more appreciated that fact. Besides, there was nothing else to do there. Best entertainment to be found.

Even as George told himself this, his eyes strayed to Paul. Paul was properly tipsy, his cheeks rosy and flushed in the club lighting and his eyes soft. He looked absolutely delectable, George couldn't wait for them to get back to their rooms so he could see that leather peeled right off of him. They always got hot and sweaty after a show from so much expended effort and from the stage lights. Most birds really didn't like it, but personally, George thought it was hot. How strong and masculine Paul would smell, and George was sure if he ever got his mouth on Paul he'd taste just as good. It was intoxicating and distracting.

But even with half of his mind with his cock, he was still able to run laps around Stu that could barely keep beat or play at all. Not that Pete's drumming was helping them that much in any regard. He'd slow down as the night progressed until he popped a prellie and then he'd be much too fast until it wore off. 

Once they had played their full set, George actually went 'looking for a girl.' It was too late by then of course. Unless he talked to one early on and made her wait, there'd be no way of having one available to take back. Not that most wanted to stay here so late knowing that meant they'd have to sleep in their shitty commendations as there was no way they'd risk walking home from here. Their best bet on most days was to get a bird earlier in the night and just do her in the dressing room as the boys either got on without them or the band took a break. 

George slung his arm around Paul's shoulder as they got off stage after their last song. "I might have money for a professional, but just one. What do you say? We could share." He spoke quietly but there was no need, the other boys were beat and looked like they wanted nothing more than their beds to sleep.

Paul was drunk and a little distracted, "Share...?" He put his guitar in its case after fumbling with the latches.

"Yeah you know, just to get the feeling of someone else to touch," George purred lowly, trying to be as seductive as he could as he ran his hand under Paul's leather jacket, stroking the man. 

"Mmmm, yeah that'd be nice."

George called over his shoulder at the other three members, "Me and Paul will be bunking together tonight." Their rooms were two per person with tiny thin cots that could be called beds that they'd press together when they had company. John and Stu had already been bunking together for a while, much to Paul's jealous resentment while Paul, George and Pete alternated who got the stranger roommate. Unless Stu was with Astrid. 

Pete didn't even look back, not that he would have seen George's hand on Paul's back, but he just flipped them the bird from behind his back without any other protest. Someone had to get the short straw every night. George doubted Stu and John heard him, so wrapped up in each other and their little world.

George led Paul to a brothel which was only half a block down. People liked to get all their partying needs satisfied in one place. Despite being called ladies of the night they were open 24/7. The windows were tinted, the red spotlight only showing the silhouettes of the women. 

Paul stopped in front, right across the street, staring, possibly even drooling. During the daytime, when it was light out, the women just posed there behind clear transparent glass but this seemed to affect Paul more. Maybe it was like lingerie, some lads felt it was more titillating when the women were partly hidden. George hadn't taken his hand off of Paul's back, he rubbed him in slow but firm strokes, "When was the last time you had a bird?" George continued to ask in what he hoped was a seductive voice. 

"Long time," Paul mumbled.

"Shame, a handsome charming lad like you, they should be falling at your feet, doing your bidding." It was easy to rub Paul's ego too, the thing was massive but that George could sympathize. Paul's charm didn't just work on the ladies. As though it was just accidentally, George inched his hand more onto Paul's side, his fingers skimming at Paul's stomach, the sensitive skin next to his navel.

"Mmm," Paul moaned out softly as he swayed on the spot, his eyes fixed on the attractive women dancing. The silhouette easily made it look like the women were naked, and as young men, it was hard to resist after being denied for so long.

"If you want to do more than look, Paulie, I'm gonna need some money so we can split her- so we can share." Paul wasn't really listening, just nodding his head along. Convenient really because then it meant George could do this-

"Uh mate?" Finally, Paul was snapped out of his stupor, shame though George had rather enjoyed shoving his hand into Paul's trouser pocket even if he had only 'accidentally' grazed anything.

"Ackers Paul? Remember how much I bought you tonight? Don't you think it's only fair you help chip in, especially if we are sharing?"

Paul nodded along slowly, "Cheers for the bevvies, you're a good mate."

"Do you know where your billfold is?" George asked again in no real hurry to search Paul, not that that had stopped his hand from finding purchase on that surprisingly firm arse. He didn't grope him so much as lightly stroke him but Paul didn't seem to mind, his attention once again wrapped up in the show they were seeing. 

"Hmmm, with Johnny." Of fucking course it was, maybe John gave him a nice pat down too to retrieve it.

"Paul." 

"Hm?" 

"Paul," George repeated more authoritatively before thinking, fuck this, and biting Paul's neck. Paul didn't squeal like a little girl like George had imagined. No instead he moaned, fluttering his eyes closed, and rocked backwards towards George's body like he wanted to dry hump right out in the streets. Even with as shady as these streets were with drugs and violence, homosexuality was still very much illegal and George didn't know if he wanted to break yet another law. 

"Alright, if that's what you want how about we go back to the rooms?" Again George didn't get an actual answer, maybe he'd done too good of a job getting Paul drunk off his rocker. 

George had to literally physically grab Paul and march him to their rooms. "But Geo, the birds." Paul stumbled and would have surely never found his way there even though it was so nearby.

"They don't want skints like us, sorry Paul but I'll make it up to you."

"Promise?" Paul asked, flashing George a pleading expression including a pouting lip. 

If George could have his way, Paul would be making better use of that fucking plush red mouth. "Everything in my power to please the great James Paul McCartney."

Paul giggled at this and let George keep walking him down the street. By the time they arrived at their building and their floor Paul was still giggling as they made it down the dark hallway. There were only two lightbulbs for the whole corridor and one of them was always busted at least. But the stumbling, fumbling should have left George the perfect opportunity to properly hold Paul as he helped him walk.

Instead, George was too busy being shocked and stunned. It wasn't John and Stu fucking, although with how close the quarters they lived in where it was really only a matter of time until one of them heard or saw them at it. No, it was Paul himself actually. Paul was- Well he was doing what George had wanted to. He was groping himself openly, that peepshow must have really got him randy. Not just that but he was...

George's brain was practically melting out of his ears, he could barely process it. Paul's hands on his body at least, after so long. And not just some friendly touch. Really, really touching him. 

George hurried them to their room, they didn't need the boys knowing, or anyone else seeing this crime. He threw Paul in and slammed the door behind them, locking it shut, not something they always did as they had so few possessions and nothing of value, but for this, he didn't want to be interrupted.

Paul was standing dazed in the middle of the room, rubbing his hand over his crotch and staring at George with lust. George wanted nothing more than to snog him senseless but he feared if he did that Paul would spook. Instead, he crowded the other man, despite Paul's pretty, young and girlie face he was actually taller than George. But it was only by one inch so George could still loom especially if he could get Paul to cower. 

George wanted nothing more than that, Paul underneath him, maybe on his knees taking his cock in that demanding plush mouth of his. But he had to keep reminding himself to be gentle, not just throw Paul down and have his wicked way with him. Instead, once George was real up and close, he pressed him back up into their bed, rubbing one hand over his cock.

Paul moaned, loudly. He must have been holding back, biting back the noises, doing his best to silence himself while they were out in public, but now that they were behind closed doors Paul felt free to be as loud as he wanted. Or maybe, George liked to tell himself, it was because it was him. His touch that was getting so much to Paul. "Better than when you do it yourself huh?"

Paul's eyes tried to focus on George, which must have been hard given how intoxicated he was, and how dim the room was with only the streetlamps outside coming through the windows. "Geo?"

Ah, so it had been his voice, a man's voice that had Paul hesitant and spooked. George had no intentions of lying or deceiving Paul, just convincing. If Paul really didn't want to then George would leave him to it, but he also thought that as a straight man living in such an unaccepting culture, he just needed to be shown the light. Shown how good if not wildly more convenient it could be, not just with a man, but with someone that knew him and cared for him. Someone just like Geo. 

"Yeah, it's me Macca. You look like you need a hand, I'm just here to help. Nothing, just a hand, and then we go to sleep well-rested. You don't want to go to sleep bullocks blue. And it's been so long, it'll feel good, I promise."

"Just a hand?" that didn't seem to be Paul's actual question. 'Nothing queer?' seemed to be his actual concern as he made no effort to make eye contact again with George, keeping his head turned away.

"Just a hand," George reassured as he used said hand to stroke Paul, as though petting a frightened animal. 

"Yeah, 'course that's fine." Paul sat himself down on the bed and even parted his legs, inviting George in. An invitation George was not going to refuse.

George put a knee between Paul's legs to be on the bed, it also made him tower over the other man. Paul, who always only saw John, who would always call and treat George like a little kid brother. But now, tonight, he was going to be re-educated. George was going to give that motherfucker the best goddamn hand job of his life, absolutely ruin Paul for anyone else, let alone birds. 

Paul moaned loudly as George stroked him through his trousers, he reached out and grabbed hold of George but not to push him away, no, to hold him tight. "I-Oh please," Paul was partially already begging undid his trousers and tried to shove them down. He laid himself on the bed to get his weight on his back and off his bum as he tried to slid them down, trousers and pants, all in one go. Not shy at all, but what did he have to be shy about?

As gorgeous as Paul looked in all that shiny, tight leather, it could be a real bitch to take off. And George wanted to rip it off of him, preferably with his teeth, but again he feared spooking away Paul, using his hands instead, not just to lower it but to completely remove them. Paul didn't lay about like a dead fish he sat back up and reached again for George. George was more than happy to oblige him, he licked his palm before wrapped it around Paul's cock and stroking it from base to tip. 

Paul made noises lovelier than his guitar, and George was just as talented at drawing them out of him. He learned quickly exactly what Paul loved, what made him thrash and squirm, moan and scream, and just get so close to coming. But every time he did George would slow down, back off and leave Paul just at the precipice only to not tip over the edge. 

It was making Paul desperate. George only wanted for Paul's wordless moans to turn to his name, he wanted to hear the proud bassist beg for him. He didn't assume, nor even think it possible, that instead, it would push Paul to do something else. George had been pressing his other hand against his own groin, just stimulating himself through his clothes, when Paul reached out, touching him there.

George made eye contact with Paul that broke it, but this time not looking away into nothingness but rather at his crotch. He opened George's trousers, who dared not breathe, as Paul slowly reached in to grab hold of George's cock. George groaned, loudly. He couldn't help it, it felt so good to finally be touched.

But it also completely stilled Paul, whether it was the sound of his masculine voice, or actually touching another cock. "It's just a hand," Paul said as though telling it more to himself. He visibly tried to calm himself as he slowly began to stroke. George's cock had been hard for long enough for there to be enough precum, but George would like to see nothing more than for Paul to open that big lush mouth of his and stick his wet little pink tongue out to wet him one way or another.

George tried not to fuck into Paul's hold but it was hard, he settled himself on top of Paul sitting on his lap to help control himself. Paul's breathing speed up as he must have been able to smell George from this close-up, they didn't smell like spring flowers after performing hard under the stage lights. But it didn't seem to bother Paul any more than it bothered George. George dared to let his head get closer to Paul's. Not to kiss him of course, he didn't want the other man fleeing, just to nose at his hair. The gel of their hairstyles had mostly sweated out but its strong odour remained. Hair gel, sweat, and Paul himself.

George didn't actually know if he was going to last as long as Paul, trying now in earnest to make the other man come. However, he couldn't frantically stroke Paul like he might need because their hands kept bumping into each other. "Here, here, just let go," Paul said out of desperate frustration. George hesitated a beat, he didn't want to, he really wanted this to be the best, most intense experience of Paul's life so he would come back for more, but in the end, he relented. More important was that Paul pleased himself after all.

But to George's surprise rather than use his own hand to pleasure himself too, Paul instead opened the hand around George's cock to wrapped up both of them. Pressing cock to cock like this was heavenly, the slide of their precum erotic. Pressed tightly against each other, George could see that once said they had an inch of difference only this time George was the bigger of the two. It was childish and meaningless, but George hoped Paul thought of that every time he thought to conceded to him like he was some annoying little brother. And if the lesson didn't stick, George told himself, they'd just have to repeat it again and again. 

George didn't know if he was biting back his noises as to not distract Paul that literally had their cocks in hand, or if it was just to better hear the sounds Paul was making. He sounded better than those whores they rented, and even fucking filthier. George wanted to record it and have it printed on vinyl to just play it on repeat. 

Paul wasn't being very skillful or attentive in the hand job but it didn't matter because they were both so close. George had wanted this for so long and had been thinking about it since this breakfast, while Paul had been repeatedly teased and edged. George pulled back from Paul's hair by instinct, his body ceasing with the muscle spasms that accompanied an orgasm. But it also brought him into Paul's line of sight, the bassist's kaleidoscope eyes locking with his this time rather than looking away. 

Within moments Paul was coming too, shouting, instinct for him however was to clench up including his eyes being squeezed shut as his whole face twisted up. George didn't mind it that time, enjoying being able to look at him like this without needing to hide the lust and wanting in his gaze. When Paul came, his grip on himself loosened and so George wrapped his hand around Paul's and helped him with the last few strokes as he was coming.

Slowly, reluctantly George let go watching Paul pant and heave. He should have taken off his shirt, especially if this was the only time they were gonna do this so he could have seen all of Paul as he came, but on the upside now Paul's shirt was cum stained. He'd have to at least think about this, about tonight and that powerful orgasm, as he cleaned it, dried it, and even maybe as he next put it on. George wanted nothing more than to collapse on Paul after such a long day and a tiring bout, but he feared that wouldn't be welcome.

Instead, he lifted himself off of Paul's lap and went to access the basin of water they had for almost just this purpose. Paul stirred as George approached with the towel, he opened his eyes and stared at George with such an intense unwavering stare. George thought for a moment that Paul would demand from him a vow of secrecy before snatching the towel from his hand but instead, Paul's look opened, transformed as he let himself fall back onto the bed. 

He didn't say anything but George felt sure if he had, it would have been for George to clean him up. It was too much for him to verbalize so soon, but George hoped. He wiped carefully and delicately at Paul's limp cock and at the streak of come that they had spilled but there was little he could do for the shirt but blot it and hope it wouldn't be to stiff in the morning.

When he was done with Paul, George pulled away to clean himself, when Paul's hand reached out to stop him. George looked up at Paul who looked right back at him. Paul took the towel out of George's hand that did not protest and cleaned George up. It was a clinical, brief touch rather than sensual, but these were definitely the kind of baby steps George could approve of. 

He went to rinse the towel and set it out to dry. He closed the shutters and then felt his way in the dark to the bed. It was less awkward without lights to dim, but he still feared that Paul would push their cots apart even if most of the time they slept bed to bed merely for heat. Instead, Paul was the one to hesitantly reach out to George. 

George was wondering what he wanted, surely Paul knew it was much too soon for a second round and how could the other man not be dead tired? "Some nights, it's just so cold."

Ah. George scooched so they were pressed together and Paul rolled over so they slotted together like spoons in a drawer. He wouldn't want Paul to get cold. And with that, after all, they'd been through that day, George plunged right into sleep.

When he woke up to their alarm it was to find that unsurprisingly they were both hard. He knew this because Paul's erection pressed right up against him. George didn't know how Paul wanted to treat last night, as though it was just some drunken mistake, possibly not to be repeated unless he was drunk again, and so George did nothing but stay still.

Paul woke up groaning, putting a hand to his head. George reached out to the nightstand that had their alarm for a cup of water he'd placed there which he dutifully pressed into Paul's hand. Paul cracked his eyes open as he drank from it. "You're not a bird," was the first thing out of his mouth and George would be lying if he said it didn't hurt.

Still, he shrugged and played it off casually. "Just convenient aye? Hands are hands." 

Paul nodded but also his eyes dropped down to George's mouth like he was thinking that hands are the only things men have the same as birds. "Aye, very convenient. Lots better than meself and easier than fetching a bird after working all night." George tried to fight back the blush that 'lots better' brought to his cheek. "And I was very drunk," Paul continues on. "Anything can happen when you're drunk, doesn't have to mean anything."

"No, 'course. It's whatever you want," George replied as casually as he could.

Paul set back down the cup and looked at him determinedly before lying back down and sliding himself comfortably under the sheets. "I could still be drunk," Paul told George, George felt his every muscle tense. "Very, very drunk," he repeated as he made a show of wetting his lips and opening his mouth. 

Fuck, George could already imagine how amazing it would feel to have his cock in that wet warmth. "Mmm, oh yeah me too, very drunk. Don't remember a thing."

"Not a thing," Paul promised with a wink as he lowered his body, his mouth descending on George's morning wood.


End file.
